


now it is all so easy

by softreminiscence



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7651495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softreminiscence/pseuds/softreminiscence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>komaru comes to the rescue to accompany a frightened fukawa during a power outage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now it is all so easy

with your back pressed up against the wall, you realize what that sickening feeling is -- the one that is churning within your stomach as you stare down at blank pages and try to form some semblance of normality within the plotlines in your head. this feeling is one that you have memorialized after freeing it from its inked cage; you have written it down with so many pretty words and metaphors and disguised the ugliness of it with clever turns of phrases. what once was _butterflies, tangible light, endless, impossible happiness_ is now _old milk, test anxiety, infernos of inescapable darknes_ s.

 _inescapable darkness.  
_ quickly you find yourself recalled into the present. the darkness feels tangible, as though it is pressing on you from every side. it is a hidden assailant that exposes every opening. your breaths are quickening from the anxiety pooling in your stomach and you want to tear your ribcage open so you may get the necessary oxygen to survive.

your hands are shaking.  
your head hurts: a sharp pain towards the left.  
if someone handed you a knife, you would form rivers.

     “nngh,” you grit your teeth as you remember the scissors that sit against the skin of your thigh. the metal has never felt so cold. a vibration causes you to jump out of your skin as you grapple for your phone; you are almost scared that when you open it the dim light will show you the hidden things lurking in every corner. the momentary brightness is a blessing until you see it is a message from an imbecile asking if you are okay.

the reply is never sent because as your fingers are poised above the buttons, someone knocks.

     you could feel your way to the door, but you are frozen where you sit. it isn’t anything; it isn’t anything, is your mantra and it is accompanied by who would want to waste time with you. the knocking doesn’t stop and you are at wit’s end as your hands almost brush against the scissors. no, you warn yourself.

          another text, _we aren’t in the game anymore._  
“imbecile,” you say aloud and hear a resounding, “fukawa-san!” from the door.

that voice knocks you out of your thoughts as you cautiously inch forward. you wish that the door was unlocked so that you didn’t have to be doing this, but that voice is an anchor that you don’t wish to uproot. “fukawa-san, i can go get a key from makoto, but if you are in there could you open the door?”

     that voice is sweetness, like your favorite fruit, and that voice is softness, like the familiarity of a plush animal from your childhood. the person with that voice is tangible light. her core is a sun and when she exhales, sunlight pours out. it brightens the vast darkness and you follow that sunlight until your shaking hands are unlocking the door to let her in. you wish you could see her face, but her light is blinding and within seconds she’s wrapping you up into an embrace that you don’t want -- you keep telling yourself that you don’t want it and that you don’t need it, but it feels so airy. your feet feel as though they aren’t even touching the ground; for a moment, you are weightless and the darkness isn’t so dark.

then you are pushed back into the present and the darkness is overwhelming and the loving arms around you feel like they may strangle you at any second. in a haste, you push away from her and stumble backwards. you trip over your own feet and land with a resounding crash as you knock over a stack of books. clouds of dust motes dance in response and you feel yourself shaking as she stares at you. in the dark, you can barely make her out, but her green eyes are shimmering as she extends a hand towards you. “i don’t have a flashlight, but i could light a candle! will that help?” komaru leads you to the bed before she leans over to tend to one of the various candles you have in this room.

“the power went out,” komaru says simply and when the candle is lit, she turns to you and you notice how there’s happiness shining from her as she sits across from you. your legs are sprawled out and everything about you is messy and unorganized, but she remains folded and perfect. her hands find your own and words are pouring from her mouth, but you only feel the warmth of the sun as she promises that everything will be okay even though she doesn’t know if that’s true and any second now you could end up like any of them who haven’t even gotten proper burials.

you honestly wonder how death hasn’t touched you yet.

     “fukawa-san?” she asks and draws you out of your stupor; you had been mumbling to yourself and it started to scare her; you can tell because of the glint in her eyes. komaru is too easily read by you -- how long have you been studying her?

the concern in her expression takes you aback as you sit there and realize that you would be comfortable just sitting here with her like this for days. you think that somehow all of this should be troubling you more than it is. komaru is making you forget that you are cloaked in complete darkness which is a fact that makes your skin crawl; you will be thankful when the lights turn back on.

     “fukawa-san, we should sing,” she says and you think it is an idiotic idea, but you know that shine in her eyes and you don’t want to be the one to throw the water on the fire in her gaze. she hums underneath her breath -- a lullaby of sorts and you begin to hum with her, but your voice wavers and the hums die in your throat, but she encourages you with dimly lit smiles and her hands that are wrapped around your own.

somewhere along the way, the song dies off as the lights flash on slowly -- dim at first, but growing brighter. her fingers are combing out the knots in your hair as you both sit on the bed in your room and you feel too young and there is that feeling of happiness that sits in your chest as though the sun has engulfed you with its heat and is supporting your growth and maintaining you with love. komaru laughs when the lights come on and you find yourself smiling even though you want to frown

and when she leans down to press her lips against your forehead,

you can only manage, “thank you.”  
because your heart has never been this full  
and your scared to taint her happiness with your broken phrases.  
so you whisper a  _thank you_  and hope she hears an  _i love you._


End file.
